


Memories at Mission

by stilinskiloveslydia



Category: Stydia - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Stydia, Teen Wolf, stiles and lydia - Freeform, stydia beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:19:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7470639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinskiloveslydia/pseuds/stilinskiloveslydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack goes on a much deserved vacation to the beach. All is well until Stiles starts getting flashes of his mother. Lydia helps him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories at Mission

Stiles looked out across the water, the sun glinting, making it sparkle like a sea of gems. He sighed and wrapped his arms tighter around the warm body leaning against him. She let out a laugh that was light as air and rubbed her thumb over his wrist as he buried his nose in her strawberry blonde hair, reveling in the way it tickled his face as it blew in the wind. Sand coated both their arms and legs, and the salt from the water made their skin sticky, but neither of them minded at all. After all, they were at the beach, it was expected.  
Stiles loved the beach. He’d always loved the beach. Ever since he was little. His family used to take trips to Mission Beach every long weekend or break, they had even taken Scott with them a few times. It had always been something that Stiles looked forward to. Mission Beach was his happy place. That is, until his mother passed. When she wasn’t around anymore, the trips faded.  
Sure, his dad tried to keep it up for the first year after her death, keep some fun in his son’s life, but there’s only so much you can do with a hyper active kid and your own crippling depression.   
Melissa had tried too. Taking him and Scott down to the beach for spring break in seventh grade, renting a condo by Belmont Park and telling them to go crazy. But the on the way to the park they passed by the condo he had always stayed in with his mother and father, and suddenly it didn’t seem so fun anymore.   
This was the first time in years he dared to go back. It still hurt like hell, but he figured maybe it would be better now that he had Lydia. She understood him in a way no one else did, not even Scott. Stiles was sure it had something to do with the emotional tether they shared, she was always able to tell when something was becoming too much for him, when he needed a break.   
Stiles came back to himself, watching as Scott tossed Malia into the waves. He laughed out loud when Malia surfaced, looking murderous, and tackled Scott, both landing in the surf and laughing hysterically.   
Stiles stood up, pulling Lydia with him, and ran out to the water. They splashed around for a while, and then Stiles found a wickedly large and slimy patch of kelp. He picked it up and waggled his eyebrows at Lydia whose eyes went wide with terror.  
“Stiles don’t you da-AH,” she shrieked as she dodged the seaweed being thrown at her. Scott and Malia soon followed Stiles’s lead, both finding their own patches of kelp and hurling them at her. Stiles was laughing so hard his stomach hurt, he hadn’t had this much fun in a really long time.   
He glanced up, wiping a tear from his eye when he saw a figure of a woman standing at the back of the beach, leaning against the gray wall of the boardwalk, waving. He froze in his tracks. He blinked and the woman disappeared, but he knew what it was. He was remembering his mother. When he was young he, Scott and his father had had a seaweed fight like this, his mother had stayed back, watching and laughing.   
He dropped his bundle onto the sand and backed away from his friends. Malia cocked her head in confusion but Scott guided her away, leaning down to whisper in her ear. He knew what was happening. He continued walking, not really seeing where he was going, or realizing that he was being followed. When he finally stopped he was in front of the house he had always stayed in with his family, a few streets north from Belmont Park and a street in from the ocean. He stared at the white picket fence and pictured his mom hanging the bathing suits out to dry. His gaze drifted to the sliding glass door and he saw her poking her head out to call him in for dinner, a laugh in her voice and a smile on her face. His eyes moved to the hose on the side of the house and he saw her spraying water at him, making a game of rinsing the sand off of his arms and legs, he could hear their laughter mixing together, the sound of it almost as melodious as music.   
He felt a small hand slip into his own and a single tear roll down his cheek.   
“Stiles?” Lydia asked quietly, rubbing his sunburnt shoulder lightly.   
“Hmm?” he mumbled thickly, trying to keep back any more tears.   
“Is this the place?” she whispered. He nodded and squeezed her hand. He had told her about this in advance, preparing her incase something like this happened. She nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist.  
They stood there for a while, Stiles wasn’t really sure how long. It could have been minutes or hours. Finally when the silence was too much, he spoke. He didn’t want to leave yet, so he told Lydia stories about his mom and this house. He told her about the time his dad almost burned the yard down because he used too much propane on the grill. His mother had charged out from the side of the house with the hose like a fireman, using her thumb to direct the spray. He told how hard they had laughed afterward when they were all drenched. He told her about the time when his mom let him put stickers on her arms and face, fell asleep on the patio before remembering to take them off, and woke up with a disastrous sunburn. The funniest part was that when she peeled the stickers off, those areas were as white as snow against the blistering red, so she had permanent outline of dolphins and stars for weeks. He told her how his mom had taken him on the roller coaster at Belmont Park when he was six, and how she convinced him to be brave when he was terrified of it, and how glad he was that she had made him do it. He told her all this and more; suddenly realizing that reliving his past here wasn’t painful like it had been before. It was nice to tell her about his mother, it felt like she was getting to know her, like he had always wanted her to.   
“I wish I could have met her,” Lydia said with a said smile. Stiles smiled sadly as well, sliding his arm over her shoulders.   
“I do too,” he said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her temple.   
“Are you ready to go? We can stay here as long as you want,” she said, laying a kiss against his jaw. He smiled, but noted the family walking toward the house, a couple with their little girl, brown hair, freckles sprinkling her nose, and a huge smile that showed off her missing front teeth.   
“I’m ready to go,” he said, squeezing her shoulder and leading her away.   
The pair walked hand in hand down the boardwalk, now lit up with lamps that cast a warm glow on the cement and made their way back to the beach. Scott and Malia had set up their chairs around a small fire pit, the orange flames crackling and spitting sparks.   
“You good man?” Scott asked, patting Stiles’s shoulder as he sat down.  
“Yeah, I was just telling Lydia about my mom” he said, pulling a t-shirt over his head and grinning over at his girlfriend who beamed right back as she pulled her arms through her crochet sweater.  
“Oh man did he tell you about the time we all came down here and she convinced us that if you make cookies with sand they’ll be edible? Because that was amazing,” Scott said, launching into a story that had the entire pack clutching at their stomachs with laughter.   
The rest of the night was spent around the fire, roasting marshmallows, making smores, and regaling one another with ridiculous stories from their childhood. It really was a perfect trip, and one that Stiles hoped he would get to repeat a few times, maybe even one day with his own family. He glanced over at Lydia, the fire casting an orange glow on her face, the flames dancing in her eyes, a brilliant smile on her face, and had the distinct feeling that he would get that chance.   
He gazed out at the water and saw figures again, but this time it was a little family. Two little girls giggled and jumped in the shallow water as it went in and out, their mother following carefully with a camera, her long hair blowing around her face. He saw their father chasing after them, grabbing the younger one and throwing her up in the air. The girl squealed with delight as her father caught her, her greens eyes bright with excitement. He saw the man’s brown eyes crinkle with a smile and the woman tossing her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder as she picked up the other little girl, whose hair matched her own.   
He blinked and the figures were gone, but he smiled anyway. That was his future. He knew it.   
He reached for Lydia’s hand and gave it a tug. She looked over at him, still laughing from whatever story Malia had been telling, and leaned over to him.  
“I love you” he said firmly, a light smile on his lips.  
“And I love you” she said, raising a hand to wipe the sand form his lip.  
He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers, a kiss that held a thousand promises, an entire future, an entire life.


End file.
